A Run For Your Money
by Lady Silver B
Summary: Oddness, blood, no pairings, changing POV's (primarily Duo-POV).. thats about it..


A Run For Your Money  
  
Hunter. Hunted. Predator and prey. Man has been the mighty hunter on the top of the food chain since the dark ages. So now I wonder how I've found my role reversed. Hunter to hunted, predator to prey.  
  
I can hear myself panting as I run, smell the metallic tang of my blood. Cursing silently, I slip into a darkened classroom, picking the lock in seconds. Looking around, I can taste the dryness in the air, smell the chemicals. The chemistry room. Perfect.  
  
Quickly pulling out my flashlight, I search the cupboards. It has to be here somewhere; no science lab would be complete without it. Aha! There it is. Setting the flashlight on the counter, I grab the container. Within a few minutes, and a few more rather innocent seeming chemicals later, I'm done. I now have an explosive powerful enough to knock the socks off just about anything. Hopefully it'll take care of this particular nasty.  
  
A loud bang sounds from near the door I just entered, and I'm running again, explosives in hand. It's scented me, thank God for connecting classrooms. Flitting into the connecting room, I block the door with the teacher's desk, then cast about for something to staunch the flow of blood. Never mind the scent, the trail of blood I'm leaving behind is a dead giveaway to my whereabouts. And this nasty doesn't need any help.  
  
There's a dishtowel in one of the sinks, and I hastily move to grab it. Giving it a cautious sniff to make sure it's clean, I cut it into strips and begin to bandage my arm. Ugly critter has sharp claws. A loud pounding catches my attention, and I turn to stare at the rattling door. With another muttered curse, I pile a few desks in front of the door to waylay the beast.  
  
Grinning to myself, I stare at my slapdash barrier. It would work. Taking a fair sized gob of explosives and a detonator from my sac, I rig up my little surprise. If it worked the way I planned, my ugly little friend would be nothing more then a splat on the wall when she got through that door. A couple of more thrusts to that door, and the desks would topple and 'KABOOM!' No more beastie. I smirked, setting the last charge.  
  
I finish wrapping my arm, then hurry from the room, listening intently as I wait outside the door. I can still hear the pounding through the thick wood, the rattling of the desks. A loud screech warns me momentarily before a horrendous BOOM sounds and the building shakes.  
  
I sigh. That should be the end of it, no more beastie. I lean against the door, holding my injured arm close to my body. I need a shower, I'm covered in blood, and I stink.  
  
A sudden sound from the room behind me warns me away from the door seconds before it bursts open. The beastie is back, and lets loose an enraged shriek as it spots me. I'm frozen for a moment by surprise before I whirl and take off running down the hall, skidding around corners. I spot a stairwell as I hear the beastie crash around the corner behind me and howl. Darting towards it, I fumble with the lock, my picks slipping in my bloody fingers.  
  
Finally getting the door open, I scramble though and start down the stairs. Moments later, pain explodes in the back of my head. Curse my hair! I knew it would be a hazard, but the long rope of chestnut is too important to me to cut off. Blinking painfully, I grab my braid and pull, hard. No go, the beastie isn't going to let go. Gritting my teeth, I pull the knife from my ankle sheath, reach back, and cut my hair off.  
  
Loose strands fall about my face as I'm propelled forward by the backlash. The beastie howls yet again as I catch my balance, only moments before it hurtles into me. Gripping the banister, I try to steady us, but it's not happening, she's too heavy. Staring down the stairs, I know this is it. If the fall didn't kill me, the beastie sure as heck would when we hit rock bottom. I'm a dead man.  
  
Claws dig into me as we fall, and I can feel the blood flow. In retaliation, I strike out repeatedly with my knife. It growls and grabs me around the throat, and I send out a silent prayer before the darkness surrounds me. I cannot feel the bite of the stairs in my flesh, nor hear the beastie's triumphant yowl, before there is a sickening silence.  
  
((  
  
Taking off the VR unit, Duo took a deep breath and let out an explosive sigh. Reaching around, he grabbed his hair, still almost a yard long, and sighed again, this time in relief.  
  
"I can't believe you did that," came the quiet comment from behind him, as his partner, Sylvia, removed her own VR visor, "I mean, you cut your hair!"  
  
"Well, I thought it might help, but you decided to come down after me," he rubbed his neck, where the 'beastie' has broken it, "next time, I'm coming after you, and I get to choose the virtual-world." He snorted, "No more St. James Academy for me."  
  
"Fine, fine, whatever you want, but be ready for a workout Duo, 'cause you're goin' down," she threatened with a mock glare, before grinning, "…again."  
  
Laughing, he threw his arm over her shoulders and led her from the room, "Whatever you say babe, whatever you say." 


End file.
